


Fabricated Facades

by Veale



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Identity, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Marauders' Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-04 04:16:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5320121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veale/pseuds/Veale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His parents were both loving and accepting, yes, but Remus knew he would not be able to appear as anything other than optimistic and untroubled in front of them. Or It would only serve to increase the already substantial guilt they felt.</p>
<p>So he hid, pushed down any feelings of indignation and misery leaving a stoic mask in their place; an awkward charade upon a forlorn child.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fabricated Facades

 

_“The first duty in life is to assume a pose. What the second is, no one has yet discovered.”_ — Oscar Wilde.

 

For Remus it was instinctive. A necessity imposed for self preservation born from years of disdainful sneers and malicious interjections.

So he was definitely good at it.

So good at hiding behind this mask that he often forgot he possessed a face to cover. Except when he was busy tearing at that face with jagged claws, leaving a despondent child in its wake, clinging to arms, murmuring unfounded apologies for all his inconveniences.

The cycle repeating with ebb and flow.

His parents were both loving and accepting, yes, but Remus knew he would not be able to appear as anything other than optimistic and untroubled in front of them. Or It would only serve to increase the already substantial guilt they felt.

So he hid, pushed down any feelings of indignation and misery leaving a stoic mask in their place; an awkward charade upon a forlorn child.

And he grew accustomed to this, not really knowing what else there was. It shaped him, moulded him, into a boy who already possessed an identity, but it wasn’t an identity that would be accepted, and so he was forced into a different identity, one that conformed, a mask to cover up an ugly truth.

However it came a shock to him, following an unexpected visitor, that most his age were alike in the aspect of invented identities, portrayed through masks. Although they weren’t doing it to hide or efface oneself. Instead to present. To present themselves as someone noteworthy, someone with distinction. Almost as if it they saw it as a rite of passage into adulthood, where they would use it as a stepping stone into the adult they become. Rather than a survival instinct, trying to prevent others learning of the child he was not, like it was for Remus.

All but one boy. One boy named Sirius Black, who appeared to overflow with charisma and nonchalance, garnering admiration and envy alike from those who knew him. Remus recognised this masquerade in Sirius. For it was similar to his own. Well, as much as Sirius Black can be considered similar to anyone, that is. As Sirius did parade himself to all around, but Remus saw past that, saw the same loneliness within, longing for someone to listen, someone to understand.

Remus recognised this. How it was also a fundamental instinct for Sirius, that hiding personal affairs and emotions was integral for Black’s, particularly this one, who carried their name but not the values or nature of his past ancestors. And that by parading himself around as an overconfident and mischievous boy he could leave behind the sadness and pain and maybe they wouldn’t be able to catch up with him. Remus knew how this felt, how you could still feel lost even after the storm had passed and the water lay calm, motionless.

So they struck up a friendship, founded from two boys that both knew pain uncommon with their age, both knew the unjust reality and bitter tang that often accompanies life. A friendship that only strengthened upon learning each others secrets: affliction for one, and abuse for the other. Where they found that they were able to expose themselves behind the curtains of a four poster, allowing them to speak of trauma and trepidation in the silence of the night when everyone else was asleep, a cathartic release from their respective governing entities.

And as the years progressed they continued to find solace in each other’s nightly company. It offered an escape from all hard things, trying or trivial, where they would find comfort in the familiar oscillating breaths, where nothing else could reach them.

Until that changed.

Until Sirius was finally freed from the oppression of a name, experiencing his first sense of autonomy, having left his family behind. And Remus was happy for him of course. But now he was alone, again. Forced to remain behind a guarded mask watching on as Sirius finally felt comfortable with his own skin, finally able to breathe without the protection of a mask.

Of course Remus should have realised that Sirius would never allow this to happened, and Sirius didn’t, he fixed it. By succeeding in a feat no one thought possible, he found a solution to Remus’ own oppressor. Made it so Remus too could experience liberty alongside him.

And with their happiness, came progress. They began to feel comfortable with each other beyond the cover of a duvet. They began to discover how knowledge of a person extends beyond emotions and thoughts. They began to discover and memorise all the physical aspects and idiosyncrasies of each other. How Sirius was especially ticklish right under his navel, how Remus loved to bury his face in Sirius’ neck. How they both could not get enough of each others mouths it was as if they had ambrosia for breakfast.

And Remus would still be there every time Sirius had an encounter with a family member, or felt that he didn’t deserve happiness, that he would never be able to escape from his tainted blood, with an invitation to block out the world and words of comfort to sooth his panic.

And Sirius would still be there every time to dispel any of Remus’ fears, comfort him as the future drew closer and Remus found himself at a loss with what it held for him, how he never felt like he had control over his life, with an invitation to block out the world and confident words of a promising future to sooth his anxiety.

And maybe Sirius would never be truly free from his name, and Remus would never escape the moons wax and wane. But maybe, just maybe, when together they wouldn’t be so trapped that they would be unable to take of the mask every so often.

Just for long enough so they could see each other's smiles.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Guess I'd call this a complementary fic to my other one but I dunno.
> 
> Maybe one day I'll write with dialogue but today is not that day. You can find me [ here.](http://vealos.tumblr.com/) Or leave a comment below.  
> Thanks.


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